Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Crying Over Spilled Milk

I know the phrase: "There's no use crying over spilled milk."  I get it but I can't help but cry over spilled milk (both literally and figuratively) when it happens at least 3 times a day.

Not little spills. Huge spills.  Spills the size of a small pond appear constantly on my hardwood floors, followed by an "Uh oh" face from either one of my three boys.

Near the kitchen table.   In the middle of the family room. By the bathroom.   Mostly around the kitchen table.  Massive.  Across the table, along the chair, and on the floor.

The spills take on the form of milk or water and the occasional lemonade.  That last one instantly drives me to tears (of frustration mainly) because then you have the added element of sticky floors.

I. Hate. Sticky. Floors.

That means extra time cleaning -- extra time I don't have normally.

The cleaning.  Since the spills are unexpected, they usually come in the middle of another task I'm doing - like paying a bill or sending an email or working on a website or making dinner or putting clothes away...

The upside: I have a 17 month old who loves to wipe up things.  He's become my little helper.  I could use any help I can get.  Now to get the 6 year old and the 4 year old on board without having to twist their arms (figuratively) to do it.

Maybe then I wouldn't cry so much.

I'm pouring my heart out at Shell's - Things I Can't Say.